


Precedent

by Wilde_Shade



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Confinement, Deepthroating, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-11
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-30 02:49:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3920098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wilde_Shade/pseuds/Wilde_Shade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt Murdock  is confident in his ability to tell when a person is lying. Everyone makes mistakes. This is a big one, though - one Foggy will have to help pay for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It feels like it's been forever and a day since I filled something on a kink meme! Granted, this was more a reply to an exchange below a prompt I made than a standalone prompt. To quote the relevant part of said exchange:  
>  __  
> Anon: different anon here, but: there's twenty-six pages of prompts and i forget where this particular one was, I don't think it ever got filled? it was, essentially, "matt's built-in lie-detector leads him astray (because people legitimately believe the wrong info they're giving him, or they're better liars than usual, or as we all know eyewitnesses are the least reliable kind of evidence), errors (of judgement or law) are made. There Are Consequences."
> 
>  
> 
> _so can i prompt you here? is this allowed? is this rude? (MODS: make the call?) but if so how d'you feel bout: "matt's built-in lie detector detects no lies, but he's still working with incorrect info: foggy (and karen?) are now in deep, deep shit": go!_
> 
>  
> 
> _Me!nownotsoanon: OP here. Have any tropes and/or kinks you'd like to see in that particular prompt, anon?_
> 
>  
> 
> _Anon: ...for this particular flavor of prompt?_
> 
>  
> 
> _i'm going to HELL. uh. y'know. that noncon/dubcon coercive kind of a flavor. that's cool._
> 
>  
> 
> _um. i also maybe got a thing for a) good guys (including foggy) heroically taking one (dick) for the team, and b) matt murdock having sex in his black mask because a) woof, pretty, and b) he's blind and he has (i believe canon, but it could just be a fanon embedded in my brain) trouble deciphering facial expressions? so my headcanon/excuse for kink is: having sex when a partner can't see his face is weirdly relaxing to him_
> 
>  
> 
> _obviously if something hits you right, you're gonna use it, and if it doesn't hit you right, totally ignore it! these are all very loose suggestions none of them are requirements_
> 
> Since this is just a kink meme fill, this will likely be forthcoming in little installments rather than honest to goodness chapters.

Their client’s son got him out on bail, something Matt had fought for. It was the son who had come to Nelson and Murdock in the first place. He sat across the table from them and rattled off nearly his whole life story. His father, Mr. Paget, was an MMA fighter on his last legs. In his late thirties, he was past his prime in the sport. He had three kids. Two in college, one God only knew where. Mother missing since before they were out of diapers. Paget still tried to provide for them. He found work underground, mostly. Off the book fights in shady bars.

It didn’t pay great, but fighting seldom did. That’s why, his son told them, he got mixed up with a criminal element. For a little while there, he was an enforcer.

“But he never did anything bad,” his son insisted, heart pounding steadily, determinedly. He was so used to people blaming his father, he was defensive by default. “He made a mistake. He tried to get out. That’s when the trouble started.”

Paget told them about the trouble himself. They’d talked to him while he was still in holding, before they’d even taken the case. “They had me and a couple of other guys watching these two business types. They were helping to funnel money. Turns out, they were skimming some off the top. It was- Yeah, those two.” Paget paused and leaned across the table, tapping the pictures in the open folder Foggy was poring over. “A business woman and her… accountant? Secretary? Some squirrelly guy with glasses.”

“And what happened to them?” Matt asked.

“The short version? They told us everything. And then they died.” Paget took a deep breath. “They didn’t deserve it, and I sure as Hell didn’t kill ‘em.” Paget spoke with a conviction echoed in his pulse. “My boss burned their bodies- But you knew that already.”

“How about you go back and we hear the long version?” suggested Foggy, and Paget did.

The whole time, Matt could hear the shifting and minute sighs from his best friend. Matt accepted the case anyway. He knew the incredulous look he was getting once Paget had been escorted from the room. “You don’t think we should represent him.”

“I think he’s a criminal.”

“But not a murderer,” said Matt, a statement Foggy didn’t challenge. “He was looking out for his kids and got mixed up with the wrong people.”

Foggy tapped his pen on the table. They sat in silence for a god twenty seconds. Foggy started to say something several times before he actually did. “Is this a super power thing or are you saying this from personal experience?”

“Both?”

Whether his bias mattered to Foggy, Matt really couldn’t say. Regardless, his friend wasn’t going to fault him for it. “Not that it matters, since you already took the case, but… fine. Everyone deserves a lawyer.” Foggy slid his chair back and stood to leave. “Criminals especially.”

The case became one of very few they were working on. All things considered, despite its serious nature, it was surprisingly straight forward. They worked out a deal for Paget that took into consideration his situation and safety. Paget was mostly agreeable about it all. They were hammering out the final details when things took a sudden turn. Paget didn’t show. 

“Not even a message?” Matt asked Karen, fingers on his watch.

“Yes, Matt. As your secretary, I’m just hoarding all your messages and telling no one,” she teased, but then Foggy looked in her direction. Her tone switched to a sympathetic one. “Do you want me to call the son?”

“Sure,” said Matt, distracted. He could tell by how unconcerned they were that they thought Paget had skipped town on them. As much as Matt felt for Paget, maybe they were right. Something had seemed off about the guy, but that was to be expected. Maybe he’d gotten cold feet at the last minute. “Wait.”

Karen stopped dialing.

“I’ll go check on him first.”

“We’ll go,” Foggy corrected.

“You don’t think-” Karen began.

“We’ll call you,” Matt interrupted. He was worried. He couldn’t help it. It was unlikely the people Paget worked for had waited until now to do anything to him, but an oddly childlike part of Matt was worried all the same.

Paget lived in a duplex, only accessible via a cramped side street. Matt could smell rotting trash and body odor. Not far off, glass was breaking, a car alarm sounding. Things were still and, comparatively, silent around the duplex. “Foggy…”

“I am so  not  waiting outside.”

“Fair enough.” Matt gripped his cane a little tighter. His thoughts were so fixed on running through worst case scenarios, it startled him a bit when Foggy squeezed his shoulder.

“Chill out, buddy. Don’t make this personal.”

Matt forced an appreciate smile and, shoulder-to-shoulder, they walked to the door. Foggy knocked. Before anyone answered, Matt heard noises inside. He smelled Paget’s cheap aftershave and exhaled a breathe he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

The door opened. “We should probably talk,” said Paget, wearily. He was sweating and holding something… A metal bat.

“Expecting company?” asked Foggy.

Paget gave a mirthless laugh, hefting the bat and laying it across his shoulder. “Can’t be too careful.” 

Matt didn’t sense anyone else around, no immediate threats. Still, though- “If you have reason to believe you’re in danger-”

“Let’s not talk about this out here, yeah?” Paget stepped to one side to let them come in. Matt was less than three steps through the door when he noticed, too late, the bat swinging toward the back of his head.

 


	2. Chapter 2

There isn’t a whole lot of physical conditioning you can do that will fully prepare you for a well-aimed blow to the back of the head by something weighty and metal. It didn’t knock Matt out cold, but it did send him reeling.

“Matt!” Foggy’s voice sounded distant, as did the ensuing struggle. The bat swung again. Foggy had the presence of mind to shield himself with his briefcase but not the common sense needed to know when to run away and just get help. Credit where it was due, Matt could tell he was tempted. Even knowing what he knew now about Matt’s after work activities, it was like he still had the same version of Matt in his head that he’d had in college… Either that, or he just couldn’t quite bring himself to abandon Matt, regardless.

The bat collided with the briefcase a few more times in quick succession before the latter was knocked to the floor. Foggy scrambled backward. Paget pursued him the few feet into the living room.

This had all happened in the span of less than thirty seconds. By now, Matt was starting to rise. His head was aching. It throbbed in rhythm to his pulse, making the world seem more on fire than ever - and not in a helpful way. His efforts drew Paget’s attention. A foot pinned him back down. Instinctively, Matt threw his weight. He caught Paget by surprise and rolled onto his back, grabbing for his attacker’s leg to throw him off balance. But Paget was an accomplished fighter, and he currently had a considerable upper hand.

The bat came down hard on Matt’s legs, followed by a kick. Matt seethed through the pain and tried to sit up, but the bat was coming down again, aimed for his face. Something intercepted it. Foggy had grabbed for the bat and only succeeded in taking a blow to the wrist. He cried out and dropped to his knees. With his other hand, he grabbed Matt by the back of his suit and attempted to haul him upward. It bought Matt some time and helped him land a punch to the solar plexus that brought Paget down to their level. The bat came down with him, though. Matt remembered nothing of the fight after that.

 

When Matt came to, it wasn’t all at once. For the longest time, he drifted in and out. He was being dragged. He was being tied up. Paget on the phone with someone. Paget raising his voice at Foggy: “Who knows you’re here?”

He was dragged again. His cheek was against cold linoleum and then it wasn’t. When Matt finally regained coherence, he was on a bathroom floor. His arms and legs were bound, and his head was on Foggy’s lap. One of Foggy’s hands was handcuffed somewhere behind him. The other rested on Matt’s chest. Matt tasted blood and smelled mildew, soap, the mint from toothpaste. He started to pick himself up off the bathroom floor, but found he was too light headed to do it without the use of his hands.

“Oh, thank God,” said Foggy, the tense way he was holding himself relaxing - if only slightly. Matt knew without asking that he’d been out for some time. Foggy had been alone with his thoughts and an incapacitated friend long enough to work himself up pretty thoroughly - not that the situation didn’t warrant it.

Matt tried to sit up again, but the effort made him nauseous. He rolled onto his side instead and tried to maneuver his fingers toward the inside of his elbow, searching.

“That asshole gave us something,” said Foggy.

That explained it. “Us?”

“I may have smoked some pot in college, but our guy’s on a whole other level.” Foggy tried to inject some levity into the situation like he was trying it on for size. Being held captive was a first for him, after all. “It was… a while ago. I don’t really feel it any more. I guess you’re having a harder time coming down.”

Matt already felt like he was down. Down and about six feet under. “It’s been a while?” Matt repeated, his own tongue heavy in his mouth. “How long is a while?”

“I don’t know.” There was a tremor in Foggy’s voice that Matt pretended not to notice. “He had me text Karen. I… I told her, ah, we couldn’t find him, and that we were going home early for the day.”

Matt wasn’t sure whether or not he hoped Foggy had been quick-thinking enough to somehow tip her off. “Did she believe you?”

“Yeah… I guess? She’ll realize tomorrow though, won’t she?”

No message then. It was probably just as well. It was already bad enough that he’d endangered one of his friends. “And then what’d he do?”

“Put us in here, and called someone about- I don’t know. What to do with us, I think? You would have heard better than I did… Jesus Christ, Matt. This is- This is bad. Please, _please_ , tell me you can use your superhero knowhow to get us out of here.”

Matt tried to push past the fuzziness in his mind and really access the situation. His hands and legs were tied. That could be taken care of. Foggy was handcuffed to a pipe near the bathtub. That could be taken care of, too. The bathroom had no window. The door was closed. Through it, Matt heard a TV and smelled Paget’s aftershave. There was a master bedroom between them and freedom that had an armed MMA fighter in it. Taking him out right this second seemed unlikely, sneaking out even more so.

“Loosen this.” Quietly, Matt indicated the ropes around his wrists. “Pull this one. Just loosen it.”

“Which one? The lights are out.”

Matt’s senses stumbled over themselves trying to reevaluate the room. There was so much he was missing that should have been obvious. No heat from an overhead light, fewer cars outside, sounds of night time. The biggest oversight was just how much pain he was in. The residual effects of the drugs were numbing it and a probable concussion had kept him from realizing it, but he’d be lucky to limp out of here.

Foggy’s free hand found the ropes around Matt’s wrists. The pained ways he went about loosening them reminded Matt he’d been hit at least once. “Are you all right?” he asked.

Foggy was silent as he tugged at the knot, which could have been an answer in and of itself. “Better than you, I’m guessing,” he said finally, when Matt pulled his hands away.

The restraints around Matt’s hands were loose enough that he could get them off if he wanted to, but it seemed like a better to leave them on. If he could just wait… If he could just pick the right moment…

There was the sound of someone rising from a chair and the sounds of footsteps. Paget opened the bathroom door.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild warning for allusions to incest-type vibes. No references to or actual incest... if that warning even makes sense. Also some homophobic slurs.
> 
> I'm thinking two more parts after this one. This is why I don't do kink memes anymore. I get carried away.

With Foggy’s help, Matt sat up. It took some maneuvering, but Paget was oddly patient. He flipped on the lights and waited until Matt was slumped against the tub to start speaking.

“Real sorry about this, boys,” said Paget, his voice free of malice. “This whole thing just kinda went sideways on me.”

“We can help you,” Matt began. Paget was calm. Maybe he could be reasoned with. “Why are you doing this? Is someone threatening you?”

“What? No,” said Paget with a surprised inflection, like he wasn’t sure where Matt had even gotten that idea. “I just need some time. I don’t have any more to spare on court nonsense. Don’t know why you two just invited yourselves over, but now you can sit here with me and wait.”

“Wait on what?”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“It kind of is now, isn’t it?” Foggy was on edge. Matt wanted to warn him away from saying anything that could be taken the wrong way.

Paget just chuckled. “I’m waiting for a phone call,” he said, and left it at that.

“And after that?” Matt asked, carefully.

“Dunno,” said Paget. “Just playing this by ear for now. Trying to pass the time.” He moved toward Matt.

“You don’t need us here,” urged Matt.

Paget gripped Matt by the hair, titling back his head while he looked down at him. “Whether or not I did before, I most definitely do now.”

“Your son,” Matt added, quickly, thinking back to his own childhood and how much his opinion had mattered to his own father. “He was so sure you weren’t a bad guy.”

“I’m not a bad guy.”

“Prove it.”

“I don’t have to prove anything to you.” Paget squatted down in front of Matt. His pulse was even - not particularly calm, but he was sure of himself. He didn’t think he was lying. He was the sort of person who almost never thought they were lying. Matt should have realized that sooner. He might have if he hadn’t been so won over by the son’s sob story. “How much cock have you sucked?”

“Woah,” Foggy said, moving closer to Matt. He’d processed the question faster than Matt had. For Matt, it had come entirely out of left field.

“What?” Matt couldn’t imagine he hadn’t misheard him. There was a serious disconnect in his mind. The image Matt had of this guy, in his head, was too close to his own father to hear something like this and make sense of it.

“I asked you how much cock you’ve sucked,” Paget repeated. His voice had gone breathy. He was in the mood for something very specific and unlikely to back down now that he’d set his mind on it.

Foggy’s heart was racing. Matt was calm - which could have been the drugs or the concussion or just old fashioned denial. It was an entirely undeserved calm. Even Matt was aware of that. This was bad. This was very, very bad.

“I asked you a question.” Paget’s thumb traced the shape of Matt’s lips. Matt jerked away, but Paget had him by the hair. “This isn’t your first time,is it?”

Foggy shook his head. “That’s fucked up. You’re fucked up.”

“Excuse me?” Paget had asked a rhetorical question, but Matt had a feeling Foggy was going to answer it anyway.

He did. “You’re gonna rape a blind guy? It’s bad enough you beat him up.”

“He put up a better fight that you. He’s pretty tough.” Paget gave Matt a good-humored slap to the cheek. “You’re pretty tough. Why’re you so tough, blind guy?”

“Boxing…” Matt’s mind was wandering, his thoughts spinning further and further away from him. “My dad used to… box… I-”

"Matt," said Foggy, before Matt could say more.

Matt’s head was throbbing. He reached for the spot in the back, where it hurt most. Foggy reached for it too, concerned. Paget smacked his hand away, causing Foggy to recoil with a pained yelp. A few seconds of silence followed while Paget considered his options. “Come on,” Foggy appealed to him, when the silence had become almost painful. “He’s completely out of it. He’s hurt. He’s a good looking guy, sure, but he’s hurt. Don’t-”

There was a loud crack as Paget brought the back of his hand across Foggy’s face. “What does it matter to me if he’s a good-looking guy? I’m not a faggot. All I need is a warm mouth. Yours’ll do fine.” Paget stood and left the bathroom, walking with purpose across the master bedroom.

Matt’s thoughts fell into some semblance of order again. “Who…” he began but couldn’t quite bring himself to say what Paget had in mind. “Who was he…” Matt trailed off again and Foggy’s silence said enough.

Paget stopped and picked up something metal… but small. Like a key. Probably the one that went to Foggy’s handcuffs.

“Do you have a plan?” Foggy whispered with a desperate kind of urgency. “What do we do?”

It would have been easier to admit had it just been Matt tied up, alone, in this psychopath’s bathroom. “We wait.”

“For what?”

“An opportunity.” And then, because Foggy’s unspoken devastation was in and of itself devastating: “It’ll be all right. I’ll get us out of this, I promise.”

Paget walked back into the room and right to Foggy. “Come on, let’s go,” he said, unlocking the cuffs. “You were all eager just a minute ago, let’s see some excitement.”

Foggy just sat there, at a loss.

“C’mon.” Paget gave his legs an impatient kick. “We can do it here, but I thought you’d like some privacy.” Paget turned to Matt. “What about it? You want a front row seat or do you want a turn?”

“I’m going! Fine,” said Foggy, even though it wasn’t. He stood and Paget shoved him on ahead, out the bathroom door.

“Wait-” Matt began, but the door slamming cut him off. Of course, he could still hear them. He could hear Paget unzip his pants and Foggy drop to his knees. Foggy’s breathing was fast and uneven, Paget’s was deep and slow. The ropes were lose around Matt’s wrists, and that made everything so much worse. “Let’s talk about this!” It sounded desperate and cliche, even to Matt, but he was out of options. “Paget!”

“Quiet in there!” Paget warned. He took Foggy’s injured wrist and twisted it, making him cry out. It was meant as a threat to Matt - that’d he’d hurt Foggy, that he’d hurt Matt in the same way. One of the two. Both, maybe. It would have been easier if it was just Matt mixed up in all of this.

“Open your mouth,” said Paget. “Open… Good.”

Matt doubled over, more nauseous than ever. He put his head in his hands and tried to focus on something else, anything else. Ignoring it made him feel even more guilty - not that he could even if he wanted to. And, God, he did.

There was the wet sound of sucking and of Foggy trying not to cry. There was gagging and then laughter from Paget. He was thrusting, deriving most of his pleasure from Foggy receiving none. Twice, he pulled back before he’d climax. He made Foggy take a more active role then, stroking Paget’s cock to keep him hard. He’d let that continue for a while, then he’d start all over again. It wasn’t clear how long he’d keep it going, but a phone ringing punctuated his fun. Paget cursed, grabbed the back of Foggy’s head and finished himself off quickly. For several agonizingly long seconds, Foggy was choking. But then Paget let him go. He went to his phone, leaving Foggy to cough and sputter for breath on the floor.

“Any news?” said Paget, as way of greeting.

“Meet us where we did that woman and her assistant,” said the voice on the phone, a man’s voice that Matt didn’t recognize.

“Are you crazy? It’s a crime scene.”

“It’s been weeks. It’s out of the way, deserted. We’ll be long gone before morning. Trust me on this,” the voice said, then hung up, leaving no time for an argument.

The voice had wavered a bit, sounded nervous. Paget gave no indication that he’d noticed but likely hadn’t. His partner had an ulterior motive. Whether that was good news for him and Foggy or bad, Matt really couldn’t say.

“Pack it up, boys!” said Paget. “We’re going on a trip.”


End file.
